Thoughts in the Abyss
by ForeverSirius77
Summary: It was a time of terror, panic, confusion. It was a time of death and pain. It was a time when friends and family feared for themselves and others. It was a time of death - but also life. It was the time of the First War. -Sequel to 'Recognition' of SoB.-
1. Chapter I: Familial Encounters

_Disclaimer__: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling – I'm just borrowing them all right now. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me, unless stated otherwise. _

_S__ummary__: Two brothers have fought, and now they talk. But there isn't a lot of time in the middle of a war for a heart-to-heart conversation. _

_Author's__ Note__: Well, this is it. The sequel to _Part IV: Recognition_ of _Shades of Black_ is finally here, and the title – _Thoughts in the Abyss _– is thanks to __**butter-beer-drinker**__ from the MNFF forums! Also, please be aware that prior reading of_ Recognition _**IS**__ necessary, as this first chapter continues directly right on the end of _Part IV_, whose last couple of paragraphs are written below again. Finally, I extend a "Thank You" to **fg-weasley **of MNFF for beta-ing! And now, I present for your reading enjoyment, _Chapter I _of _Thoughts in the Abyss, _entitled_ Familial Encounters.

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**Thoughts in the Abyss**

**By ForeverSirius77**

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**Chapter I: Familial Encounters**

* * *

This is it,_ he thought, knowing that he didn't have a way out this time: the ropes wouldn't give and he could barely see straight. He braced himself for the curse, not knowing if doing so made any difference at all. Vaguely, a part of him wondered if it hurt to die; it wasn't like anyone had ever given an answer to the question, after all. So, it was a valid concern._

_But the Death Eater did not wave his wand or say any spell. Instead, he slowly tore the mask from his face, letting the object fall to the ground at his feet. Sirius, whose mind was torn instantly from thoughts of death or pain, paid no attention to the mask. He just stared at the Death Eater, whose face looked so like his own._

"_Regulus?"_

Silence seemed to reign after Sirius muttered that one word, the name of a brother he hadn't set eyes on in nearly two years – It had been almost that long since he'd left Hogwarts, after all. Ever since then, Sirius had not even managed to see his younger brother walking in Diagon Alley or grabbing a drink at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. Of course, they had barely seen each other much while the both of them had inhabited the same castle every day, so in reality, it shouldn't have been so much of a shock that so much time had passed since the two Black brothers had met face to face.

However, Sirius had never imagined that the next time he would see his brother again would be in _this _type of situation.

Everything stopped at that moment – the wind ceased its howling, the battle that had previously been so noisy had muted … or so it seemed to the currently bound Order member as he stared at the Death Eater above him. No matter how much Sirius had _known_ that his younger brother would end up following the path of his cousin, the ideals of the family … regardless of how he would wave it off and say it didn't matter, say his brother was of no concern to him … Sirius knew, now, that a part of him had been lying when he'd uttered those words.

For the Death Eater in front of him was barely of age, had only reached his seventeenth birthday a few months in the past … He was far too young to be dressed in those black robes and white mask that had brought fear to the Wizarding World for nearly a decade.

Neither wizard had moved in the entire time since Regulus had removed his mask and Sirius had uttered his name. Neither had moved, nor spoken a word, and an onlooker would have sworn that the two men had been Petrified. The silence soon grew too heavy, the sounds of the night and vicious battle not seeming to be able to penetrate the area around the two brothers. It was as if someone had cast a huge Silencing Charm on this side of the foreboding stone manor – a charm which let no sound in or out. But the silence had gone on for too long, and someone had to break it.

And so Sirius did. He had always been the more talkative, the more outgoing, of the two of them, anyway.

"Regulus, what are you doing here?"

It was not precisely the question that he had wanted to ask – although, as he thought about it, Sirius realised that he wasn't even sure _what_ that question would have been. Too many thoughts swirled in his mind, and asking his brother what he was doing was a decent enough place to start the conversation – however obvious the answer might have been.

Regulus Black did not respond at first. In fact, it looked like he was temporarily surprised that Sirius had even spoken, for his wand arm jerked just a bit as if the young Death Eater was expecting an attack. The words of his older brother's statement, however, did end up breaking their way into his head. He said the first thing that came into his mind as an answer.

"Fighting."

"Well, I can _see_ that," muttered Sirius, wincing slightly as pain shot down his arm once again from the still-bleeding injury in his shoulder. The bonds around his wrists and ankles continued trying to cut into his skin as well (_I wonder if I can get Regulus to take them off, _he thought), and his head had yet to cease its throbbing. (Hitting one's head on the outside wall of a massive stone manor will _definitely_ cause one some discomfort.) "You know what I mean."

And he knew that his younger brother did – Regulus just chose to ignore it, as he always had in the past. Some things, it appeared, never changed.

"I don't … I don't really know," whispered Regulus.

But then again, maybe some things _did_ change.

"What –?" The seemingly honest answer from the younger Black surprised Sirius, and he once more saw the hesitant and nervous boy that had been his brother for so many years, before time and differences in beliefs tore them further and further apart. He saw, not the vicious Death Eater that he had been duelling with throughout the night –_ When the hell did Regulus get so skilled in duelling? _he thought distractedly – But rather, the boy who was only seventeen years old and had not-yet-left Hogwarts' halls.

"You're a Death Eater," Sirius muttered, not expecting a denial but still feeling that impossible and illogical idea that the cold fact would be disputed. There was still that part of him that hoped to wake up from the nightmare he'd stumbled into and find that his brother hadn't sold his soul to the most evil wizard to ever exist.

Silence fell over the two wizards once again; the lack of Regulus's refusal to Sirius's statement – as well as the physical _appearance_ of the younger Black – was enough of an answer to Sirius's accusation. Distantly, the sound of voices started to break into the silence, though Sirius could not tell if they were meant to be friend or foe – and in that regard, _whose_ friend or foe. At this point, however, a small part of him almost couldn't care less one way or the other.

"So, what are you planning on doing, Regulus?" asked Sirius, and the Death Eater's attention focussed back on him immediately. "Are you going to kill me, then?"

A part of him wondered how he could speak of death at the hands of his brother so flippantly, but he quickly pushed the idea aside. He wouldn't think of the figure before him as Regulus, his brother, anymore. The wizard holding him bound at wandpoint was not his flesh and blood, but rather just a Death Eater – a nameless, faceless coward who terrorised the country hidden behind a mask and under a hood.

"Sirius, you –"

"REGULUS!"

The exclamation cut the boy off immediately, the words he was going to say to his older brother forever lost and left to be unknown by anyone save himself. Two nearly identical heads turned in the direction from which the voice came, though sight wasn't needed by either of them to identify the speaker. Her voice had been heard by both Black brothers for their entire lives.

Grey eyes met blue as the two wizards faced each other again, Sirius trying to get his younger brother to at least let him out of the bonds before Bellatrix showed up. Even without a wand and seeing nearly double of everything due to his head injury, he knew he had a chance – however slim – to get away, but not if his wrists and ankles were still tightly bound. At that moment, a sharp pain tore down his arm, the injury seeming to remind him that the situation was hopeless whether or not he was tied up.

A slight shake of Regulus's head was the only acknowledgement he gave to even show that he had understood his brother's silent request. Words were on the tip of Sirius's tongue to reply when Regulus muttered a nearly silent apology.

"I can't," he said. "I'm sorry, Sirius." The words were barely out of his mouth before another darkly robed figure entered into the sights of the two wizards.

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_Author's__ Note__: Well, there you have it – the beginning of the new story. I have plenty of things planned out for this fic, and my muse can always take me onto other avenues as well, but certain questions raised in_ Recognition _will have their answers in this fic in due time. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and look for the second chapter, entitled _Taken,_not too far in the future – it's half-written and some of the other scenes needed for it are already planned. _

_Another thanks to butter-beer-drinker for her title suggestion, as well as fg-weasley for beta-ing, and please, let me know what you think thus far!_

_--ForeverSirius77 … who's going to be evil and not apologise for the slightly cliffy ending again!_


	2. Chapter II: Signs and Returns

_Disclaimer__: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling – I'm just borrowing them all right now. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me, unless stated otherwise._

_Summary__: A Seer receives the sign she's been awaiting for months, members of the Light worry over their friends and family, and the weary fighters return – but something still isn't right._

_Author's__ Note__: Yep, the second chapter of _Thoughts in the Abyss _is here, and it's even lengthier than the first one was. Unfortunately, it's not the chapter that'll be titled "Taken",__as the scene for that chapter has been pushed back yet again (more in end A/N). A "Thank You" goes out to __**fg-weasley**__ of MNFF for beta-ing this chapter, too! But I'll let you get right to the story, so I present for your enjoyment, _Chapter II _of_ Thoughts in the Abyss, _entitled,_ Signs and Returns.

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**Thoughts in the Abyss**

**By ForeverSirius77**

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**Chapter II: Signs and Returns**

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A bright, white orb hung in the dark night sky, and the nearly full moon provided light over the grounds of the centuries-old stone castle. The evening was quite cold this far north, winter still the season of the year in mid-February. Stars shone from the sky, their little lights dotting among the blanketed sky, and owls flew from the surrounding trees, as well as into and out of the school's Owlery.

Everything about this night was perfectly normal at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; this night was not any different than any of the other nights before it, nor was it any different than the many nights that were sure to come after it – at least, not as far as the natural wildlife was concerned.

Inside the stone walls of the massive castle, however, nothing could ever be described as being 'perfectly normal'. Most of the students had retired to their beds, as the hour had grown quite late in the evening and there were classes the next day, and many of the teachers had done the same as those young witches and wizards. A few of the ghosts, for whom sleep wasn't needed, could be seen floating along the shadowed corridors, their translucent appearance helping to provide an eerie sort of lighting to the halls.

But up in a small room in one of the highest towers in the school, there sat a teacher who was not anywhere near being sleepy or drowsy in the slightest. Her long and wild strands of silvery grey hair fell around her lined face in a crazy and whispy manner. Tangles snagged at her comb repeatedly as she brushed through the strands, though she did not even seem to flinch as she yanked on her hair, and her light blue eyes stared off into the distance – though not as if seeing anything of importance. Her actions seemed almost trance-like.

Professor Sylvia Silverstone, the teacher of Divination for nearly five years, had been awakened over three hours ago by a vivid, yet weird dream. She had, obsessively, already scribbled down the facts of the scenes and words imparted to her, but try as she might, she could not remove them enough from her mind to allow her to return to slumber.

She had been all alone in a large, empty room, the walls and floor coloured as white as possible and stretching on endlessly, no boundaries in sight. Looking around for a door and finding none, Sylvia had yelled out for someone, her voice echoing around in the space, though calling no one – or so it had seemed. For, barely a moment after the last of her echoing plea had faded away, she turned around to find herself staring at a young girl, one who couldn't have been older than ten years of age.

The child had blonde hair that was almost as white as the room, smooth yet still slightly straggly, and her large, silver eyes stared directly into Sylvia's blue ones, the gaze as intense as if she was staring into the woman's inner soul. Both Sylvia and the girl continued their staring contest for several silent minutes before it was broken by any speech.

"Who are you?" asked Sylvia, her voice still seeming to echo around the room regardless of its volume being a near whisper.

"The Moon can always impart knowledge to those who See," replied the child, whose own soft voice did not echo as Sylvia's had. "Though she cannot always make others understand."

Sylvia, who had always before prided herself on her dream interpretation and cryptic riddle solving, had to admit that this girl had her at a loss. "What do you mean, child?" she asked.

"I know that you can See, but you must make way for another to take your place," answered the girl, her eyes gazing unblinkingly at Sylvia. "The other must inform the White Teacher that the heir to the Leader and Flower will be the one he's long awaited, the one to stop the Black Serpent. But that is not your part to tell," she whispered, grabbing onto the sleeve of Sylvia's robe and pulling the professor down to her level. "You must inform the White Teacher of _this_ knowledge."

And the child had proceeded to whisper said knowledge to Sylvia, the new words just as cryptic and as unknown to the professor as all of the girl's other statements had been, but they attached themselves firmly in her mind. There would be no possible way for her to forget them when she returned to the waking world.

And Professor Sylvia Silverstone had not forgotten the words of the child. Upon awakening, she had hurried from her bed and into her attached office, grabbing a quill and quickly scribbling down the girl's statements. She had then placed the quill back upon her desk and sat down in the chair, a position she hadn't moved from since leaving her bed.

Her gaze travelled over the parchments on her desk once again, resting for a brief moment on her hurried notes from her dream before stopping on that last piece of parchment, the one she had removed from a drawer after completing the transcript of the vision. It had been written months ago, though she had never thought far enough to deliver it. She had, after all, been in this teaching post for five years, and there was a part of her that was never sure if she was ready to give it up completely. Always, as she had glanced at the parchment in her drawer, she would claim that she was waiting for a 'divine sign' to lead her to the right path to take.

Sylvia smiled, setting the comb down on her desk and picking up the letter of resignation. Perhaps she had finally received that sign – and five years was enough for her. It was time to move on.

She would tell the Headmaster in the morning that a new Divination teacher would be needed for the next school year.

* * *

The same bright moon that gave light to the grounds of Hogwarts also shone through the windows of a run-down, wooden house on the western side of the country. Surrounded by nothing but grass and forests, the house seemed fairly non-descript and certainly nothing to admire. Most of the windows on the first floor were destroyed, bits of glass still littering the front porch, and the front steps shook and groaned with just the slightest weight. The front door barely remained upright, and holes could be seen all around the house, especially atop the roof. All in all, it looked as if the slightest touch would send the structure tumbling to the ground.

But such was not, in actuality, the case.

Protective charms had provided the grand appearance of the house, which actually stood as strong and sturdy as it had for years. Built and enchanted to outlast every natural disaster known to mankind, the house looked impeccably clean. The windows – all unbroken and solid – gleamed with their lack of dust, and there were no gaps or holes in the walls or roof. The front stairs could hold the weight of dozens of grown men all jumping down on them at once, as well (such a thing was known for a fact; just last week, the group that used this house had tested just such an idea).

What had appeared to be an abandoned and run-down house in the middle of nowhere was, in reality, a grand home that was filled with nearly twenty individuals on this night. (It was still, though, in the middle of nowhere.)

Most of the house's inhabitants were gathered in the main room, a large meeting table in front of them that was covered with maps, books, scrolls, and other documents. Some sat in chairs, a drink in their hands as they talked with friends, while others were poring over the documents on the table, discussing what they thought in low whispers – though some conversations had been approaching a level of 'argument' earlier in the evening. A couple of them had even fallen prey to slumber.

But still others, who, for whatever reason, could find nothing else to concentrate upon, were pacing repeatedly across the room, to the great annoyance of their friends before they left the room to continue their actions elsewhere.

One such pacing individual was a young, red-haired woman, barely over twenty years of age and just starting to show the first physical signs of her pregnancy. Back and forth, back and forth, she walked through the nearby kitchen, having left the group of people over an hour ago to pace in peace. Her green eyes were clouded with worry, and she did not even seem to notice the opening of the kitchen's door or the entrance of another individual … until he stood right in her path and she ran into him, of course.

"Lily, you're going to wear yourself out if you don't sit down," said a quiet voice as the man put his hands on the red-haired woman's shoulders. "I'm sure everything will be fine –"

"You don't know that, Remus Lupin," Lily snapped, though she allowed herself to be led to a nearby chair. She lifted her gaze to meet the blue eyes of her friend. "No one knows that."

Remus sighed. "You're right, Lily, I don't know for certain," he said. "But –"

"And I know what you're going to say," interrupted Lily, lifting a hand as if to emphasise the point. "You're going to say that it's just a normal raid, nothing unexpected. We had plenty of information about the manor and enemy before anyone went on this mission, and there shouldn't be any logical way for anything bad to happen." She gave her own long sigh before continuing.

"But I don't care if it's logical or not, Remus," she said. "I'm worried, more worried than I was the last time they went on a raid like this, and I don't know why. There were fewer secrets on this mission than there were on previous ones, but I've got this feeling that something's going to go horribly wrong."

Remus frowned, Lily's words reverberating in his mind. Lily usually had very good intuition, her 'feelings' generally always leading in the right direction; very rarely were they too far off the mark, so to speak. And though Remus himself had felt an increased anxiety over tonight and the Order's mission, he knew better than to tell Lily that he, too, shared her increased fears. Such words wouldn't calm his friend's wife in the least, and would only make the situation worse by seeming to confirm Lily's worries.

Silence had fallen over the two of them as Remus was lost in his thoughts, though they had known each other long enough for there to not be any awkwardness in the lack of conversation. The quiet didn't last too long, however, before it was broken by a series of chimes – three short, two long, one short – echoing around the house. It was the signal that the wards were allowing entry via the correct keys, rather than the series of two short, one long that signalled the wards being forcefully breached and broken.

"They're back," said Remus.

He and Lily both rose from the chairs at the same time, Lily making it through the kitchen door a split second before Remus. The two of them joined the others in the main room, all of whom had ceased their previous activities and had focussed their eyes on the front door. (Gazing through the window wouldn't help, as allowed visitors had the capability to maintain invisibility until they stood upon the front porch.) Even the few sleepers had rejoined their waking companions and were watching the door.

And with a few sounds of tapping wood – a wand against a door – that was followed by the clicking of locks, the front door of the Order Headquarters swung open.

* * *

The sounds of several, quiet _pops _could be heard as eight individuals materialised out of thin air, four being held up by a combination of spells and physical help from their living companions. Barely a second passed after the witches and wizards had arrived before they had all collapsed to the ground, exhausted. The four unfortunate souls who had not managed to leave the battle alive – Michelle Waterstone, Alexander Rogers, Marcia Penn, and Jonathan Bennett – were lowered to the ground slowly by the others.

"We should get back into the house," said Frank Longbottom, turning to face his wife as she wrapped a torn piece of cloth around the deep gash on his shoulder. "Let the others know what happened." His brown gaze turned to take in the sight of the four unmoving bodies, whose faces were either twisted in expressions of pain or surprise – and in some cases, both.

"And what you're not mentioning is that they've probably started to worry sick about us and are pacing holes in the floor as we speak," Alice muttered, tying off the bandage and standing to help Frank to his feet. "You know, James, how Lily's been during these past few missions."

The black-haired man who was currently receiving the female Auror's gaze smiled, rising from the dead, grassy ground himself. "Well, then let's not keep them waiting any longer," he said, waving a wand as he spoke to conjure up four stretchers for the dead – Everyone who was alive wasn't injured so badly as to prevent walking. Dorcas Meadowes and Alice Longbottom enchanted the bodies of their fallen companions onto the floating stretchers, while Frank and James Potter began keying their way into the wards.

After hearing the series of chimes that signalled they'd made their opening and were allowed, the eight members of the Order of the Phoenix crossed the field, maintaining the invisibility that the wards provided, and slowly climbed the front steps before unlocking the door and entering the house.

James had barely made it through the front door before Lily had her arms around him. It only took him half a second to return the action, giving a small smile and nod to his friend as he did so. The slight sounds of voices coming from the others in the room reached his ears, though James couldn't concentrate on them enough to know what was being said. He figured, of course, that his companions on the mission were telling the others what had happened – and the sounds of gasps that came from some of the members seemed to confirm just such an idea.

Memories of the recent fight chose just that moment to swim to the very forefront of his mind, and he winced inwardly as he thought about the deaths of his friends. Apparently, though, his face had shown the expression.

"James," said Remus, "what happened?"

Lily leaned away from her husband, though neither of them completely let the other one go, and the trio walked into the other room to join the rest of the Order. After they had each taken a seat, James began to tell both Lily and Remus the events of the night.

He told them how they didn't make it into the manor; how they had apparently been expected and planned for, if the number of Death Eaters waiting for them was any indication; how both Michelle and Alexander had been killed before anyone could do anything about it (both Lily and Remus looked slightly sick as James told them just _how _the four members of the group had died). He told them how the battle had turned south extraordinarily quickly, and that the call for retreat had to be given.

"So, in short," muttered James, sighing, "the entire thing was a complete and utter failure. We didn't get what we went there for, and we lost four people in the fiasco." He rubbed his hands over his exhausted face, willing the tiredness to leave him, at least for the moment.

The voices in the room had quieted, though conversations were still being held in whispers. Members of the Order had broken off into groups, just as they had earlier in the evening, and the four bodies of Marcia, Michelle, Jonathan, and Alexander had been taken upstairs to one of the bedrooms. Frank, Alice, and Dorcas had a witch or wizard acting as a Healer next to them, trying to heal the worst of the injuries, as they could allow slight cuts and bruises to heal naturally. Lily had started doing a similar thing for James, nodding thanks to Emmeline as the dark-haired witch passed her a pain-killing potion.

Remus, returning from the kitchen with a couple of drinks, suddenly stopped in the doorway. He scanned his blue eyes over the room, seeing each and every Order member that had been present when he left, and realised why that feeling of unease had not completely left when the members of the raid returned to Headquarters. At first, the werewolf had passed it off as being caused by the deaths of nearly half the group – and vicious deaths at that – but now he knew that such was not the case.

There was someone missing who should have returned with the others.

"James," he said, stopping in front of the Potters and placing the drinks in his hands on the table, "Where's Sirius?"

* * *

_Author's__ Note__: Yeah, I know, another cliffy – but it's only slight, as you _know_ where Sirius is (for right now). I promise, though, that he's back in the next chapter, in the scene that should be called the "musical scene", as it has changed position every time – It's what uses the title of "Taken",__by the way. (It started out being in the first chapter, and then moved to the second, and now it's in the third – where it will stay.) As for now, though, thank you so much for reading, and please don't hesitate to let me know what you think of this chapter!_

_--ForeverSirius77_


	3. Chapter III: Taken

_Disclaimer__: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling – I'm just borrowing them all right now. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me, unless stated otherwise._

_Summary__: The conversation continues between the Black family, and now that another member has joined the brothers, things are sure to grow darker. _

_Author's __Note__: All right, here's the next chapter, and it's finally the place where that "musical scene" gets to be used. A thank you goes to __**fg-weasley **__of MNFF for beta-ing this one, as well. As there isn't much to say, I'll leave you to the story. Therefore, I present for your reading enjoyment, _Chapter III _of _Thoughts in the Abyss, _entitled, _Taken.

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**Thoughts in the Abyss**

**By ForeverSirius77**

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**Chapter III: Taken**

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Long, black hair falling down the length of her back and strands surrounding her face like a thick, velvety curtain, Bellatrix Lestrange came into sight from around the manor's wall and walked towards her younger cousin. "What's taking so long, Regulus?" she asked, her eyes having yet to stray to Sirius's form that was thankfully still slightly obscured by the shadows of the manor.

Sirius barely felt like he wanted to breathe, afraid that the smallest noise would divert his cousin's attention towards the manor – and to him. His heart was pounding in his chest, and a part of the young Auror thought it surprising that no one else seemed to hear it. But he knew that he couldn't just sit there, waiting for Bella to notice him – for it was surely only a matter of time before the witch turned in his direction. So, as she continued talking with Regulus, Sirius put his family members' conversation to the back of his mind and, making as little movement and sound as possible, tried to break free from the ropes binding him once again.

"The Order fled from here awhile ago," said Bellatrix, her entire attention on Regulus and her back still facing the manor. "But you never came inside …"

"I know, Bella," he answered.

"Why did you stay out here, then?"

"Well, there – I –"

But Regulus wasn't given the chance to say whatever it was he planned on uttering because at that very moment, his elder cousin's sight had left him and strayed to the manor, her gaze piercing the shadows like a cat's. A grin that could only be described as 'nearly maniacal' split her face as she saw Sirius, her dark eyes quickly taking in his bound and bleeding form with barely suppressed joy. Alternately acting like a regal, proud queen and like a child who felt that Christmas had arrived again so soon, she approached Sirius, her wand held loosely at her side and eyes alight.

"Well, well, well," she said, paying no attention to the death glare that her cousin sent her way. (She'd received plenty of them during her lifetime, after all. They stopped fazing her in childhood.) "If it isn't little Sirius, all hurt and abandoned by his little friends … It's been a while, cousin."

"_Hello, cousin … It's been a while …"_

_A door clangs shut, its sound echoing throughout the room. More voices mutter, though the words are undistinguishable. _

"_He can't remember anything." _

_No, _Sirius thought, trying to push the memories away. Now was _definitely _not the right time for them – if there ever _was _a right time. But now he at least knew who one of the voices was, without a doubt. His insane cousin had always had a particular voice, after all.

Instead, he focussed his energy on the woman in front of him, paying his brother little to no attention and trying to keep the memories at bay. His swimming sight and throbbing injuries didn't seem to help matters, either. Sirius tried once again to break through the bonds or to get free somehow. (He even tried transforming – _The hell with keeping it secret now _– but it didn't work.) All he could do was glare at her and hope like hell he could think of _something _soon.

"Well, if it isn't Trixie," spat Sirius, a smirk appearing on his face as Bella's contorted into rage at his use of _that _nickname. "Finished grovelling at Voldy's feet already?"

His words were cut off quickly by twelve-and-three-quarter inches of walnut – Bellatrix's wand – shoving into his throat, almost making him gag. "I'd watch what you say, Sirius," she hissed, her mouth only inches from his ear – a fact that made him jerk his head back immediately. "You aren't exactly in the best position to give witty responses right about now."

Sirius snorted and glared at the cousin he hadn't seen in over three years. "Yeah, you know a battle of wits with you is never very satisfying, is it? After all, I doubt spending nights with all the masked idiots of the world increased your intellect any." He could barely keep himself from laughing out loud as he watched Bellatrix's face tense up even more, her fingers clenching and unclenching around her wand as she pulled it back from his neck.

Sirius didn't even notice as his cousin's anger faded away and was replaced with a flash of glee before the pain erupted.

A heavy weight seemed to press down on his shoulder, the intense pressure centralising over the deep gash, and he bit off a yell, though a small hiss of pain managed to escape. His eyes had clenched shut, the weight increasing just a little more before it was suddenly removed. A throbbing in his arm, however, stubbornly remained. Breathing heavily and trying to still his pounding heart, Sirius opened his eyes, his gaze going at once to his cousin.

Bellatrix stood in front of him, her wand pointed directly at his shoulder. The smile on her face made her look like a small child awakening on their birthday to see hundreds of gifts piled in front of them. "Sirius, Sirius, Sirius," she said, sighing, though her expression didn't seem to alter. She still looked blissfully happy. "I thought we went over this before, cousin –"

"Yeah, Trixie, I think that was the problem," interrupted Sirius. "You actually tried to _think, _and we both know that it doesn't work –" His words were cut off once again as Bellatrix's spell caused the fiery pain to tear down his arm. She held the curse longer this time, or so it seemed to Sirius, and it took all of the strength he had to keep from screaming out.

When it finally ended, Sirius had the taste of blood in his mouth – he'd bitten down a little too hard, it appeared – and even the smallest of movements hurt. He lifted his head enough to resume his glare at his cousin, but rather than meeting the cold, dark gaze of the witch, his eyes encountered the blue orbs of his brother for the first time since Bellatrix's arrival and her subsequent interruption of the brothers' conversation.

Regulus's face was expressionless, void of anything that could be used to give him an emotion and the same mask of indifference that wizards of high-class Pureblood society were taught from childhood. He stood tall and proud; not a single fault was visible and just by looking at him, at his strong appearance, people could claim that, at this moment, the seventeen-year-old wizard was the perfect image of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

Those people, however, wouldn't really look into his eyes and see the truth that those blue depths held. They wouldn't see the inner revulsion and disgust at his cousin's actions that flashed in his expression for barely a second before disappearing behind the façade – yet still remaining visible in his eyes. They wouldn't see the hesitancy to lift his wand at Bellatrix's urging that he join her, the brief glimpse of previous guilt at his actions that shadowed his gaze.

But those people weren't Regulus's older brother who, for all the differences that the two of them had shared, could read his brother like an open book. Sirius could – and did – catch those brief instances of emotion that broke through the second son of the House of Black.

_Come on, Regulus, _Sirius thought, paying only half a mind to Bellatrix's taunts and words while willing his brother to understand him. _Just loosen the bonds. _

Sirius was so caught up in the one-sided conversation with Regulus that he didn't even notice the glowing, silver animal that came out of the forest until it was almost right in front of him.

* * *

James just stared at Remus for what seemed like several minutes, the words of his friend barely seeming to register in his mind. _"Where's Sirius?" _He was vaguely aware of Lily still sitting next to him, her hands shaking slightly as they lay on his arm. Finally, he seemed to regain the power of speech.

"He's not here?" he asked, and then he promptly wanted to curse himself for the obviously pointless question. _Well, of _course _Sirius isn't here, _he thought to himself. _Remus wouldn't be asking if he was! _

Both Lily and Remus shook their heads. "Sirius didn't come in with the rest of you," whispered Lily, the worry and fear that had shone in her green eyes earlier in the evening reappearing stronger than ever now. "And he didn't arrive earlier, either."

Time suddenly seemed to stop for all three of them, James in particular. The room suddenly felt too small, and a lack of oxygen as well as a need to rectify the problem assaulted the bespectacled wizard. He rose from the chair, barely even noticing that the others had followed him as he left the room and headed into the kitchen, which was, thankfully, deserted. James needed somewhere where he could pace and think, uninterrupted and completely focussed.

Not even bothering to close the door behind him, James started pacing the length of room, up one side and down the other. He forcefully pushed the exhaustion that edged at his body away, shoving his mind immediately back to the raid, to the last time he had seen and spoken with his best friend, trying to recall when, exactly, Sirius had disappeared. _We were talking before leaving the forest, _he thought. _Just like we always do. _Words came to mind at the memory:

"_Everything all right?"_

"_I'm fine … I was just thinking –"_

"_About?"_

"_About how much _fun _tonight should be. What else?"_

But something hadn't been right, James remembered. Sirius, for all he had claimed that he was, had not been fine. His carefree act had been exactly that – an act, a façade. There was just something about it that had been distinctly un-Sirius Black. And if he knew little else, James Potter knew his best friend.

"Something was different tonight," he muttered, unaware that he'd spoken the words aloud until Remus asked him to explain. "I don't know how, exactly, or why, but there was just something … wrong. It was like something was bothering him, but he just shrugged it off when I asked him about it, so I let it drop."

"When was the last time you saw him?" said Lily, standing next to Remus by the kitchen's door. The two of them looked like guards, as they stood on either side of the entryway and kept their arms crossed.

James sighed, the memories of the night's events running like a film through his head. "I don't know," he said, sighing. "He could've disappeared any time during the fight, and I wouldn't know – it was too chaotic, and the last time I distinctly remember seeing him was only about a minute into the battle."

Silence fell over the three of them for a brief moment, though it was far more suffocating than any previous lull in conversation had ever been – or so it seemed. Glancing out of the window, James took in the scene of dying grass and tree branches bending to the wind's pressure, the white light of a nearly full moon giving enough brightness to the grounds to see by. His own reflection stared back at him from the dark glass panes, and he thought there was something gnawing at his brain …

_The glass! The reflection!_

"Remus, do you have the two-way mirror?" exclaimed James, turning instantly away from the window and looking at his friend, a smile on his face. The expression faded, however, when he saw it wasn't mirrored on the other two people in the room.

"What?"

"Both of the mirrors are here, James," Remus answered, his voice quiet. "You and Sirius chose to leave them behind this time, rather than risk losing them."

James Potter cursed – extensively and rather colourfully. He paid little attention to his wife's glare or his friend's frown, nor did he pay much notice to their conversation. Whatever they were discussing, it more than likely wouldn't help solve their current problem. _The _one _time we do the 'mature' and 'responsible' thing, _James thought, _is the _one _time where it blows up in our faces! _That _will teach a person to be responsible –_

"James!"

"What?" he yelled.

He turned around, cutting off his own muttering and train of thought, to see that Lily had been calling his name more than once. As she rose an eyebrow and glared at him, he sighed and, lowering his voice, asked her again. "What is it, Lily? And where did Remus go?"

She smiled – something that was one of the last things that James felt like doing himself right about now. "Remus went to go talk to Dumbledore," she said, elaborating as she saw her husband's expression. "He just arrived a few minutes ago. You were too busy pacing and muttering to notice." Ignoring James's attempts to interrupt with a defence, Lily continued. "As for Sirius, we forgot about one of the most obvious ways to contact him – a Patronus."

Deciding that he could punish himself later for not thinking of the easiest solution, James asked, "And you've sent one?"

"We both did," she answered. "A doe and a wolf should be arriving wherever Sirius is any minute now."

* * *

"You really didn't understand, cousin –"

Bellatrix's words were cut off immediately as she turned away from Sirius, her gaze distracted by the sudden brightness that illuminated the area. What had previously been cloaked heavily in shadows, the darkness of the side of the manor had been overpowered by two gleaming, silver animals coming from the depths of the nearby forest and towards the two wizards and witch. Regulus's expression mirrored his cousin's.

A bright, silver wolf approached the bound Order member first, a doe following barely a step behind the canine. Opening its mouth, the doe spoke in Lily's voice. _"Everyone's returned," _the voice said, but the message – as brief as it was – was taken over by the wolf Patronus.

"_Let us know your status," _it said, Remus's voice clearly understandable by all three people listening to the words of the two Patronuses.

"_Times remain the same," _finished the doe, and then slowly, the two creatures faded away, leaving Bellatrix, Regulus, and Sirius in the same level of darkness that they were in before.

It took a bit before any of them spoke a word and broke the silence that had fallen upon the departure of the Patronuses. Thoughts swirled in Sirius's mind, and he barely repressed an audible sigh when Lily's and Remus's messages had been delivered. He knew what they meant – The rest of the raid members had arrived at Headquarters, and he had a quarter of an hour to send a reply Patronus to let them know how he was before the rest of the Order declared something amiss and acted.

Normally, such a time frame wasn't a problem. Messages carried by Patronuses – though they had to be concise – usually were able to arrive instantly at their intended recipient. A message didn't take barely more than a few seconds to send, so even in the midst of a particularly messy battle, there was generally enough time to take a breather to fire off a reply.

But fifteen minutes in his current predicament – wandless, injured, and held bound at wandpoint by two Death Eaters – weren't conducive to bringing about a positive result to Sirius.

_Damn it, _he thought, trying to organise his thoughts into something that even remotely seemed like a beneficial plan. He had the option of trying to stall Bellatrix from carrying out whatever goals she was after – his death or his capture, he wasn't quite sure which one – in the hopes that the others would arrive soon enough, but that avenue was risky at best. There was also the option of trying to overpower both his cousin and brother, but unless some of his luck changed, he wouldn't get far attempting that method.

And getting a hold of a wand with enough time to send a Patronus to the others was nigh impossible.

He glanced up at his brother once again that night, trying to get him to – at the very least – just _loosen _the bonds around his wrists. _Come on, Regulus, _he pleaded silently, hoping Bellatrix was too distracted to pay too much attention to his attempts. _Do it just enough for me to get –_

Sirius felt the ropes around his wrists stretch out ever so slightly, with just the smallest amount of room for him to wiggle a hand free without _too _much movement. He barely kept the shocked look from his face as he took another look at his brother before he worked on surreptitiously slipping his hands free from the bloody bonds – and keeping the hisses of pain silent as the movements sent pain through his arm.

Regulus didn't return the stare of his older brother, nor did he give a sign that he had done anything throughout the entire time. Instead, the younger Black son's appearance was that of the "perfect Pureblood" that he'd shown earlier.

"Oh, look, Regulus," said Bellatrix, diverting Sirius's attention slightly from his thoughts and actions as he turned to see his cousin glancing at his brother. "Little Sirius's friends know he's missing already." She turned back to Sirius, the grin on her face growing as she approached him. "Are they going to interrupt our family reunion, cousin?" she asked.

Bellatrix stopped as she stood directly in front of Sirius, and reaching down, she tightly grasped his chin, forcing his head to turn so that their eyes met, like a mother speaking to a disobedient child.

The glare that Sirius sent his cousin barely had time to register in her mind before she felt herself falling to the ground, her grip on Sirius failing as her legs were kicked out from under her. Sirius leapt away from the wall and landed on top of Bellatrix, ignoring the pain that shot through his arm at the hurried movements and his attempts to remove the wand from her loose grasp.

He had waited for her to come just close enough, had waited for her arrogance to allow his cousin to hold her wand in the least possessive grip, before Sirius had acted. The moment that she had gripped his chin, Sirius had kicked out to trip Bellatrix, sending the witch to her back in surprise, before leaving his own position against the manor's wall to try and grasp the magical instrument that she had managed to – somehow – still maintain.

Sirius was stronger than his cousin, he knew. That didn't mean Bellatrix could be underestimated in any way during a physical fight, though. The element of surprise that Sirius had had in the beginning didn't last long, however, as Bellatrix quickly recovered and sent a kick of her own into Sirius's chest, knocking the wind from him for the briefest of moments. He returned the favour by grabbing her left wrist as the hand came up to strike him, twisting the limb in such a way that the _snap _of a breaking bone seemed to echo around them.

Bellatrix screamed in pain, yelling at Regulus at the same time to alert the other Death Eaters in the manor, before managing to connect her elbow with the side of Sirius's face. She wasn't able to notice whether or not Regulus had followed her orders, though, as her attention was immediately returned to the walnut wand that Sirius had his fingers around, trying to wrench it from her grasp.

With another hit to his chest, and this time with an elbow, Sirius's concentration slipped just long enough for Bellatrix to turn her hand enough to point the wand's tip at her cousin, shouting _"Crucio!" _as she did so.

Sirius couldn't hold back the screams this time as the curse tore through his body. The pain he had felt earlier due to his injuries was only magnified by the spell, leaving him writhing on the ground as Bellatrix easily manoeuvred herself out from under him.

She kept her wand pointed at Sirius, her earlier grin returning as she held the spell for nearly a full minute before lowering her wand and releasing her cousin from the Cruciatus's grip. Bellatrix watched as he struggled to return his breathing to normal and get up from the ground, watched as the lack of strength stemming from the injuries and curses that night took their toll on Sirius. It was only when he failed to make it to his feet that she approached him, her wand held pointing squarely at his chest.

Bellatrix stared down at her cousin, taking in the blood flowing from his cuts, the bruises that were already starting to form, and the dirt that smudged his face from the physical fight the two of them had fought just moments ago. She took in the entire beaten appearance of the Auror in front of her, the gleeful expression on her face growing clearer and clearer.

"Don't worry, Sirius," she whispered, hearing the doors of the manor banging open and the sounds of the Death Eaters issuing forth. She turned her head slightly to take a quick glance at her approaching companions before returning her attention to Sirius. "No one is going to kill you." Bellatrix smiled, a giggle barely being suppressed as the other Death Eaters circled around the cousins, their lit wands providing plenty of light on the grounds.

The only reaction that Sirius seemed to give that showed he noticed the new company was to shut his eyes at the sudden intrusion of bright light. His cousin's words barely registered in his mind, his exhaustion combining with the intense pain he still felt slowing his thoughts to a crawl. Each breath hurt, his ribs screaming in agony as he tried to keep breathing at a normal rate, and his right arm hung at his side, numb. Trying to keep his sight focussed had, by now, become a lost cause.

Sirius hardly noticed as Bellatrix knelt down in front of him and muttered, "There's still plenty of time for us to play." He only partially managed to lift his head in the attempt to meet her gaze with a final glare before she whispered a Stunning Spell.

And as the jet of red light hit him in the chest, Sirius slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

_Author's __Note__: And there you have it, everyone! The fic has made its first darker turn, and I suppose I could be a bit kind and apologise (slightly) for the little cliffy at the end of this chapter. Coming soon will be the fourth chapter, tentatively entitled, _Foreign Dreams, _but I'm not very sure if it'll stay that way. _

_A thank you goes out to _taintedshimmer, Emily, _and _lavinia _for reviewing this story already, and to _Floridalady, Padfoot-rawr, ambush99, _and _taintedshimmer _for either adding this fic to their story alerts and/or favourites. I appreciate it all, and to everyone who reads _Thoughts in the Abyss_, thank you so much for doing so, and know that I'd also love to hear your thoughts! _

_--ForeverSirius77_


	4. Chapter IV: Mystic Dreams and Foreign Af

_Disclaimer__: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling – I'm just borrowing them all right now. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me, unless stated otherwise._

_Summary__: Peter receives an urgent letter while on international business, James paces in the kitchen while the Order hopes for news on Sirius, and a little girl has a strange dream. _

_Author's__ Note__: Yeah, I know, it's been a bit, but writing on the fifth chapter was a pain. However, since those problems have been worked out, here's the fourth chapter of this story. A thank you goes to __**fg-weasley **__of MNFF for beta-ing, as well as helping change the chapter's title. (I really wasn't too fond of its working one – _Foreign Dreams_.) Now, though, I leave you to the reading of this new chapter, and present for your enjoyment, _Chapter IV _of _Thoughts in the Abyss, _entitled, _Mystic Dreams and Foreign Affairs.

* * *

**Thoughts in the Abyss**

**By ForeverSirius77**

* * *

**Chapter IV: Mystic Dreams and Foreign Affairs**

* * *

Night had already fallen over the busy city, although the simple darkness of nature did not in any way cause the people of New York to end their day. Streets were still crowded with automobiles, and large groups of people entered and exited the doors of stores, restaurants, and theatres. Normal office hours might have ended for the Muggle world (and that of the Wizarding World, too, come to think of it), but there was no way that New York City would slow down just because the sun had set.

In the midst of these crowded and noisy streets walked a young man, pulling his long coat tighter around him in an attempt to block out the bitter wind of mid-February. His short, blond hair was barely visible under his hat, while his gloved hands constantly changed position from clinging onto the coat to keep it pulled closed and sticking into the warm pockets of the garment. Pale green eyes surveyed the street, darting from right to left, in front of and behind him, ensuring that the young man did not run into anyone else.

It was not long before the young man made it to his destination, a massive stone building at the end of the street, whose wooden front doors were adorned with golden handles that shined in the streetlights. The glass of the building's windows were as clear as could be, the snow was kept away from the stone steps that led into the building, and a plush, scarlet carpet lay just beyond the doorway.

The famous hotel, ­­­Hotel Warrington Enchant, was one of the most unique establishments in America, not strictly due to its extensive, luxurious nature. The Hotel Warrington Enchant happened to be only one of three establishments in the entire world that was both Magical _and _Muggle. The hotel's staff consisted of both members of the Magical World and those of Muggle society, and the guest registers had the same amount of mixture. Dignitaries from many international governments had stayed in the Hotel Warrington Enchant, and the hotel's five-star rating definitely made the stay enjoyable.

An inner lobby was home to a great, mahogany front desk on one side, with stands of maps and brochures and public telephones adorning the other wall. Comfortable chairs and sofas were located near the centre of the massive room, allowing guests to enjoy a peaceful time in front of a roaring fire while they waited for friends or for a free table at the hotel's restaurant.

A small gift shop was located next to the restaurant, its shelves stocked with everything from simple snacks and beverages to expensive souvenirs that would nearly drain a poor family's financial funds. Books filled another shelf near the fireplace, and a large yet simple fountain not far from the hotel's entrance completed the more noticeable of the lobby's decorations.

All in all, the owner of the Hotel Warrington Enchant had definitely not spared anything when it came to decorating his hotel in the most luxurious manner.

"Ah, Mr Pettigrew," called out a voice, and the young blond-haired man turned around, his eyes facing the hotel's front desk to see the current employee waving her hand towards him to catch his attention in a most undignified manner.

"Rachel," replied Peter as he approached the desk, plastering as kind of a smile on his face as he could.

Rachel Kelly was a pretty little Muggle, what with her curly blonde hair and blue eyes. Her make-up always seemed to be perfect, and her teeth appeared as if they _sparkled _every time Peter glanced at them. (If he hadn't known that she was a Muggle, Peter would have sworn that she'd used a charm to get to them to sparkle like they did.) Rachel only stood barely over five feet tall; her lack of height was one of the main faults in her appearance, as far as she was concerned – though such a fault was partly corrected by Rachel's high heels that added at least several inches to the short young girl.

Unfortunately for Peter, she was perhaps the dumbest individual that he had ever come across in all of his life. _Well, perhaps not dumber than Crabbe or Goyle, _he thought suddenly, thinking back on his two former classmates. _But she'd _definitely _come close. _And to make matters worse, Miss Kelly seemed to have developed her own little crush on Mr Pettigrew.

"How was your dinner, Mr Pettigrew?" asked Rachel once Peter had fully approached the desk.

Peter sighed inwardly, cursing the fact that his manners wouldn't allow him to just ignore her. "Dinner was fine, Rachel," he said. "My business was completed just as I'd hoped." _Give as little information as possible. _That was the first rule when on these diplomatic missions, and it was the very first thing his boss in the Department of International Magical Cooperation had told him. It was a rule that was to be followed with _everyone, _and not just the ones the actual negotiations were happening with.

Peter Pettigrew had been in New York City for almost a week, doing official work as a representative of the British government with the Department of Magical Defence of the United States, as well as some unofficial work as a member of the Order. His official work now finished after this last dinner, he would be starting his Order work by meeting a witch, Annie Sowers, tomorrow morning, who supposedly had agreed to help Dumbledore in the ongoing war with the Dark Lord.

"—So very glad to hear that, Mr Pettigrew," said the receptionist, and Peter jerked his head, suddenly realising that his attention had drifted from the conversation. Taking a quick glance at his watch, however, Peter saw that it was nearing nine in the evening and he was exhausted. _It would be almost two in the morning back in Britain now,_ he thought, doing some quick math in his head to figure out the time difference. He had had a very long day, after all – one that was booked with meetings and negotiations since around six in the morning. _No wonder I'm exhausted. _

"Listen, Rachel," he started, barely stifling a yawn that sought to erupt as he opened his mouth. "It's been a pleasure talking to you, but I've had a long day, and I'd really like to get some rest. I'll see you in the morning, perhaps," he finished as he started walking away. His finger was hovering right over the lift's button when Rachel called back to him to wait.

He turned around and walked back towards the desk just enough for him to hear her.

"You received a letter earlier this evening," she said before lowering her voice slightly, so as not to be overheard. "It arrived by owl post, of course, and it seemed quite urgent. The manager left it on the desk in your room, but the owl flew off immediately after delivering it."

Nodding, Peter thanked her and headed back towards the lift, pressing the button for the fifth floor after he entered. His mind was already lost in speculation over who the letter could have been from, considering that he didn't think anyone here in the States would have needed to contact him urgently, and anyone back home would surely have used something else _other _than an owl. After all, making the poor animal fly overseas seemed a little harsh, especially if the message was important.

Yawning as he opened the door to his hotel suite, Peter's eyes instantly fell on the roll of parchment that had been laid in the very centre of his desk. It was tied tightly around the middle with a length of red and gold ribbon, and Peter felt his heartbeat quicken. The only letters that he had ever seen bound in that way came from Dumbledore himself and had to do with Order of the Phoenix business. Very rarely, too, did the letters contain _good _news.

Exhaling slowly in an effort to calm down, Peter pulled himself away from the door and towards the desk. He picked up the letter, frowned once again upon seeing the faint crest for the Order on the parchment, undid the ribbon, and began to read, his frown and worry growing as his eyes took in the words that were written.

_Dear Peter …_

* * *

James had continued to pace in the kitchen, taking constant glances at the Muggle clock sitting on a nearby shelf. He watched as the minutes slowly ticked by, the stretch of time growing since Lily had told him they had sent Patronuses to Sirius. She had left to join Remus and Dumbledore soon after telling him, and he had not seen her since. Remus occasionally popped into the room to check on his friend, and every once in a while, an Order member would enter to grab a drink or something for the others. None of them ever spoke to the pacing man, though.

Up and down the kitchen James Potter walked and the _tick … tick … tick _of the clock was the only other noise in the room. Whenever the door swung open, sounds of muttered voices could be heard coming from the nearby room where the rest of the Order was gathered, but save for those rare moments, there was just the sounds of the single clock to accompany the pacing wizard.

Up and down …

Up … Turn around at the end of the table … Down … Turn around in front of the door … Up … Turn … Down … Turn …

Up and down …

Thoughts swirled in James's head as he paced: thoughts of the previous battle, of those who had died, and of his wife; thoughts of his best friends and of the conversation he had shared with one of them just _seconds _before the night's raid.

That was it, James knew. There was something about that conversation – something about how Sirius was acting – something that James must have missed at the time – that should have _told _James that something wasn't right. Over and over, he examined the words of that talk in his head, twisting them this way and that way, knowing that surely it was just a matter of time before he found the answer. The other thoughts occasionally intruded into his mind, but the focus remained – ultimately – on that conversation.

"_Sirius?" _

_There was a pause, and James glanced over at his friend. Sirius didn't even look like he had heard James say his name, so he tried again. _

"_Sirius?"_

_Once again, there was no response. James, taking in the appearance of the man next to him, realised that Sirius was quite pale, his grey eyes staring intently at the manor in front of the group. He seemed as if he was in a trance, almost, and James reached out a hand to grasp his friend on the shoulder, giving him a slight shake. _

"_Sirius?" he said for the third time. _

_He watched as Sirius blinked repeatedly, took a deep breath, and shook his head slightly as if to clear to it. But the paleness didn't seem to lessen, and he still kept his gaze focussed on the stone building. "Everything all right?" whispered James, pausing just long enough for Sirius to answer – but only silence filled the space. _

"_Sirius –"_

"_Yeah," Sirius finally muttered, turning to look at his friend for the first time since James had started talking to him. He put his own hand on James's shoulder. "Everything's fine … I'm fine, Prongs," he said. _

_James just stared at his friend and he knew that his eyes portrayed a level of worry. Sirius had never taken that long to focus, and James could not dislodge the feeling of unease that filled him. "You're sure?" he asked hesitantly as he watched Sirius's eyes glance back at the manor. If he had not known any better, James would have thought that he saw a flicker of fear flash in Sirius's eyes for the briefest of moments. _

_But Sirius had just shrugged, the look disappearing as if it had never been there – and James still wasn't sure if it _had _been there. "Positive," he had said, a smile appearing on his face as he continued. "It's nothing, really. I was just thinking …"_

"_About?"_

_The old Padfoot shone through then, James saw, as the mischievous twinkle entered Sirius's eyes and his smile grew. "About how much _fun _tonight should be. What else?" _

_James opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius never gave him the chance as he turned to the others, saying, "Let's go."_

The footsteps of a pacing James Potter had suddenly stopped, and right in mid-step as well. He stood with one foot in front of the other, his arms hanging frozen at his sides and his eyes wide, as if he had just had a sudden epiphany of understanding. His mouth hung open in a silent 'O', and he was at the opposite end of the room, halfway turned towards the door as if he was stopped in mid-turn.

That was how Lily found her husband as she entered the kitchen, Remus coming in right behind her. Both of them froze in the doorway upon seeing James, who had not even noticed the entrance of his wife and friend, and if the situation had not been as dark and dire as it was, they surely would have at least smiled at the comedic picture in front of them.

Unfortunately, they had sought out James to deliver some bad news, and it was not a time for smiles or laughs or humour.

Remus cleared his throat, the sound enough to catch James's attention. He turned around and upon catching sight of who the arrivals were, James hurried across the kitchen to stand right in front of them.

"Did he respond?" he asked hurriedly, his hazel eyes glancing for a split second back at the clock to see how much time had passed. He was slightly shocked to see that almost a half hour had elapsed since Lily had told him about the Patronuses. The hopeful look on his face soon faded, however, as he took in the grim expressions on both Lily's and Remus's.

"The time limit passed a few minutes ago," whispered Lily, biting her lip slightly – a sure sign that she was worried or anxious. The red-haired witch looked even more worried than she had when it was confirmed that Sirius had not returned. "And Sirius never answered."

James could not seem to comprehend the words, not in the slightest. It was as if it was taking his brain extraordinarily long to process information, any information, and Lily's statement was getting 'lost in translation' between his ears and his brain. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. Just like it had been earlier when he had realised Sirius wasn't at Headquarters, when Remus had asked where Sirius was. He did not even realise that he was shaking until Lily grasped his hands, causing his eyes to glance down and see his trembling fingers.

"We came to tell you that Dumbledore is taking a group back to the manor," said Remus, meeting James's hazel eyes as the other wizard looked up from his hands. "I –"

"I'm going," interrupted James, a part of him surprised that his voice didn't join his hands and shake. "You can't tell me that I won't come looking for Sirius, Moony, so don't even try."

A slight grin became visible on the werewolf's face for a brief moment. "What I was _going _to say, Prongs, is that I take it you're coming with us. But I see now that I don't have to ask."

"Damn right, you don't have to ask," said James, nodding and exhaling in an effort to calm himself.

Mere seconds ticked by, but it was as if a transformation took place in front of both Lily and Remus where the other wizard was concerned. The few seconds were enough for James to regain his calm and become for all purposes the Auror and fighter that he had been earlier in the evening. James in Auror-mode was not anything new for either Remus or Lily, but they would both have admitted that this time was perhaps the fastest that they'd had seen the transformation.

Both James and Sirius had just completed their Auror training only last month, finishing at the top of the class together. And one of the first things that every Auror learned was the ability to put worries aside and quiet the emotions that could become crippling when going on a mission. Becoming an unfeeling, robotic monster wasn't the goal, but neither could an Auror afford to be completely ruled by their feelings. A fine line, such a thing was, indeed.

Yet tonight, James was finding out that putting the emotions aside and focussing _strictly _on the job was a lot harder when it was his best friend at stake.

But he would do it.

Deep breath.

"When are we leaving?"

* * *

Many, many miles away from Britain, across a massive ocean and over the length of an entire other country, a young girl tossed and turned in her bed. Her long, white-blonde hair tangled around her as she moved under the covers, sheets and blankets pulled up to her chin as the night was particularly cool for California. The girl's silver eyes were squeezed shut as she slept; her dreams, though normally quite weird, had already started to become even stranger than usual.

A large, white, empty room stretched out in front of the young girl, and there was only one other person inside it. She was an older woman, if her long, silvery grey hair and wrinkles were anything to go by, and she looked very confused. The old woman was calling out, her voice echoing around the room. Apparently, the old woman did not know where she was either.

And it was then that the young girl knew what she had to do.

The small child approached the old woman, and she talked to her. If she had thought about it, the girl would have realised that she had no idea what she was saying, her words sounding far too cryptic for her ten-year-old mind to come up with while she was asleep. But, for some reason, the girl _did _seem to understand, and she knew what she had to tell the woman.

"You must inform the White Teacher of _this _knowledge," she said, and she pulled the old woman down to her level to whisper in her ear, subconsciously knowing and understanding that the information was for this woman's ears only.

"_Fading are the clouds over the Star,_

_Who seeks and fights to break through._

_The power of the Serpent stretches far_

_And seeks to overcome the clouds, too._

--

"_Power alike to the Serpent's touch_

_First put the clouds in place._

_But the memories of such_

_Have long since been erased."_

The small girl paused for a moment, a part of her feeling very confused over what she was saying. The conscious part of the child did not understand her words in the slightest, and she was pretty sure, judging by the expression on the old woman's face, that the other woman did not understand either.

But she also knew that she had to continue, whether someone understood her words or not.

"_Not enough were the King's actions,_

_And back to the Black Serpent's Den_

_Did the Warrior come with satisfactions,_

_Bringing the Star back with them."_

Her voice began taking on a deep, omniscient tone as the young girl took a breath and continued.

"_Too late will come the Teacher's friends_

_To save the Star from the current fate._

_But to the King should trust extend,_

_For his heart isn't completely ruled by hate._

--

"_Regardless of appearances and acts –_

_Both in past and present time –_

_The King's soul isn't fully black;_

_He seeks to repay his crimes._

--

"_What the Warrior and the Serpent seek_

_Is domination of the Star. _

_Five moons will pass in weather bleak_

_Before the Star shines where you are._

--

"_A warning given near the end_

_To Teacher White and wise:_

_The Stone will not remain a friend,_

_Regardless of what's seen by one's eyes."_

And the young girl kept talking, telling the old woman many more statements of this cryptic knowledge, the child's voice growing deeper and greater as time ticked by. The old woman listened, nodding, and it was only after the girl had warned the woman that she _must _remember the knowledge that the dream ended.

The small child jerked awake from her restless sleep, her silver eyes flying open as her white blankets pooled around her waist in her bed. Her pink, flowery curtains blew slightly in the cool breeze that came through the cracked window in her bedroom, and as she gave a yawn, shaking her head and sending her blonde locks flying, the young girl realised that she could not recall what she had been dreaming before she had awoken.

* * *

_Author's__ Note__: And that's the end of the fourth chapter, everyone! I really hope you all enjoyed reading it. The fifth chapter, currently entitled, _Searching, _will be coming soon. _

_Also, a thank you goes out _ambush99 _and _Emily _for reviewing the last chapter, as well as to _Valadan _and _cheerycool _for adding this story to their story alerts. Once again, I truly appreciate it all, and to everyone else who reads this story, thank you. Please, don't hesitate to share your opinions! _

_--ForeverSirius77_


	5. Chapter V: Searching

_Disclaimer__: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling – I'm just borrowing them all right now. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me, unless stated otherwise._

_Summary__: It is nearing three in the morning, and certain members of the Order of the Phoenix depart from headquarters, planning to return to the manor in hopes of finding Sirius. _

_Author's__ Note__: (Offers numerous, numerous apologies to readers.) I am really sorry this chapter took so long to get out; the sixth one was being a pain to write, and with the stall on that one, this one was delayed a bit longer than I'd originally planned. But, here it is, at long last. A thank you goes out to __**Nikki (fg-weasley) **__of MNFF for beta-ing this chapter, and now, I'll let you get on to the story. I present for your reading enjoyment, _Chapter V _of _Thoughts in the Abyss, _entitled, _Searching.

* * *

**Thoughts in the Abyss**

**By ForeverSirius77**

* * *

**Chapter V: Searching**

* * *

The sight that greeted James as he left the kitchen and entered the home's main room gave the wizard on odd sense of déjà vu. Just hours ago, when the nine of them had been about to leave on the raid, the same scenes were being played out. Numerous scrolls and parchment notes covered the wooden tables, couples and trios of Order members pouring over them in study. Several maps were being levitated in the air, the images enlarged and zoomed in for everyone to see. Buzzing sounds of the many voices speaking reached his ears the moment that James opened the door.

"Ah, James, there you are."

James looked up at the sound of his name being called, his hazel gaze meeting the piercing blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Heads of the many other gathered witches and wizards turned in the direction of the entering trio, but not a single one of them paid much attention to the sudden attention focussed on them. Remus, Lily, and James all crossed the room to stand next to Dumbledore, who was currently next to one of the levitating maps, examining the image carefully.

"When are we leaving?" asked James, for neither Lily nor Remus had given him an answer the first time he'd spoken the question.

The old wizard turned to face the young man, his eyes leaving the enlarged map. "Very soon, James," he said. "Very soon." Dumbledore's attention, however, was soon diverted from the conversation as Frank Longbottom called to the headmaster. "Once everything is prepared, James, we will go," Dumbledore whispered, before leaving the young wizard as he headed towards Alice, Dorcas, and Frank at the other end of the table.

Nodding, James directed his own attention to the surrounding maps as the headmaster left. The one in front of him – the same that Dumbledore had previously been examining – was just a basic layout of the grounds of the manor. Regardless of its enlarged size, the image was quite plain, holding very little detail. It extended as far as the outside of the surrounding forest, where the Order members had entered earlier in the night. The borders made up of the numerous trees circled along the outer edges of the map, a few faint dirt trails winding through the woods marked on the parchment. At the southern end stood the iron gates, drawn closed in the floating image, and the fence barriers stretched off of the map's ends. The only representation of the manor itself was a simple, bare, flat drawing located near the centre of the floating parchment.

Another of the hanging maps held the layout of the manor's actual interior – unless, of course, the Death Eaters had altered a great deal about it once they had begun using the grand structure. Rich with detail that the image of the grounds lacked, it was towards this image that James headed.

He and the others had studied this particular blueprint obsessively ever since it came into the Order's possession, ever since they had decided that a raid on this manor was necessary. Studying the grounds had been important, but not as important as knowing where things were _inside _the manor. They had all known that their time inside the structure would have to be short, their movements quick and with little hesitation. Had everything gone as it had been planned, they would have met little resistance in accessing the manor, and gotten within fairly quickly. Yet, it wouldn't have done for any of them to wander the corridors, getting turned around and lost, having to retreat before anything was accomplished.

James didn't even think that such was what had happened _anyway._

There were, in all, five levels to the manor, though only three main floors. The bottommost level – the largest of the house – consisted of areas that could only be described as being part-dungeon and part-basement. Several rooms could be found on one side of the lower level, being used either as storage or for other miscellaneous jobs, while two corridors on the opposite end held several magically-warded cells. The size of a standard cell in Azkaban, the stone rooms were complete with barred doors, the metal supposedly heated as an extra security measure against escape. It was these very cells that the Order members had planned to search _first_ upon getting inside, hoping to find some of the witches and wizards who had just 'disappeared'.

With each progressive level of the manor, the total size of the floor became smaller, making the topmost floor – nothing but a basic attic – only about a quarter of the size of the basement. (They hadn't expected to find much of anything in the attic; rumoured information had told the Order of the Phoenix that the small room was bare.) Floors Two and Three contained just what one would expect a home to have – bedrooms, offices, libraries, baths. Large staircases led to each floor, and numerous doors opened off of the long, wide corridors, revealing the contents of the many different rooms. (Searching these two floors had been the second most important thing that the Order members had planned on. It had been in these very offices and libraries that they'd hoped to uncover artefacts, plans, or anything of the inanimate nature.)

The ground floor, which was the second-largest level, contained the main, public, areas of the manor. A large dining room stood off to one side of the entrance hall, the extensive kitchen connected to it via another doorway, while the entryway led off on its opposite side to a grand living area, expensive and classy furniture sitting in front of large, stone fireplaces within. Further down the hall were a couple of other doors that led to the back gardens of the home.

It had been nearly three weeks that James and Sirius, being the leaders of the raid, had studied those maps. The spy had given Dumbledore the information at the end of January, and the Order had obtained the different layouts two days later from Ministry files. Blueprints of the structure, images of the surrounding grounds, every last bit of information that they had needed to plan this mission had been nearly memorised. Regardless of the fact that the maps were nearly a century old, having been drawn up shortly around the time of the manor's construction, as far as the Order of the Phoenix was aware, the Death Eaters hadn't changed much of the core layout of the home.

James's thoughts soon drifted from studying the map; he already felt like he'd stared at it enough in the previous weeks. His mind was back on his friend, on what could have happened to him, on their conversation before the raid – and the epiphany of understanding he'd had in the kitchen before Lily and Remus had come back. Turning around, he searched out the other two to tell them.

James was never given the chance, though. No sooner had he opened his mouth to call Remus and Lily over to him did Dumbledore stand up, the action gathering all attention to the headmaster.

"James, Lily, Remus, Frank, Alice, and Dorcas," he said, his blue eyes meeting the stares of each person as he spoke their name. "Are you ready?"

_Finally, _thought James, nodding his head along with the others. All six of them rose from their seats and approached Dumbledore.

"Everything is prepared, and you are all aware of the manor's layouts." More nodding. "There is no way to know if there are many – or any – Death Eaters left at the manor, so be cautious," finished Dumbledore.

They all nodded once again and, together, reached out to grasp the object held in the headmaster's hand: a decade-old copy of _Quidditch Quarterly. _Within a split second, the Portkey was activated, and all six had disappeared.

* * *

A parchment letter crumpled in his hand, Peter Pettigrew hurried through the long, white corridors of St. Mungo's Hospital in a desperate search for Room 4815. The witch at the front had told him where to go, yet in just a few minutes, Peter realised he was hopelessly lost. He had never been very good with following directions – especially if they consisted of taking three different corridors, five left turns and six right ones, a lift to one floor and a set of stairs to another (since the lift on that particular level was currently malfunctioning), and a few more turns.

"_And the room is right there at the end of the hall. You can't miss it."_

He snorted as he remembered the witch's words and looked around for any sign that would point him in the right direction. _Or at least tell me where in the hell I am,_ he thought. But there was no such luck, and Peter continued his wandering.

Exhaustion threatened to overcome the young wizard, though he stubbornly pushed it aside. He had been tired when he'd arrived at the hotel in the States, after all, and international Apparition had only been bound to make matters worse. The time was quickly approaching three in the morning, and while Peter would have given anything to take a nice, long sleep in a warm bed, he'd had to come to the hospital.

If she was dying, he had to say goodbye.

_The first time Peter had read the words written on the parchment square, he hadn't been __able to comprehend them. Surely they had not said what he thought they had. Surely, in his exhaustion, he had just misread the inked sentences. Surely he had been so tired that he'd fallen asleep upon picking up the letter, and it was just in his nightmares that he'd read it. He would wake up soon and read the _real _letter. _

_The letter that wouldn't tell him that she was in the hospital, that she was dying._

Dear Peter,

I am sorry to have to share with you some tragic news.

Mary McAdams, who I know you were very close with, was discovered on the night of the 14th, just outside of Harwich. She was rushed to St. Mungo's, but I'm afraid, Peter, that her injuries are too extensive for a full recovery. The Healers haven't given her more than a few days, so it might be best if you can make it back to Britain soon.

Please, please forgive my blunt words, Peter, for I know that this is not the most compassionate of letters.

Signed,

Emmeline

_Along with the letter had been a single owl feather – Dumbledore's supply of a Portkey. _

_It was in a trance-like state that Peter scrunched up the parchment and picked up the feather, arriving instantly just outside of the front room of St. Mungo's. It was under that same this-isn't-happening belief that he'd approached the witch behind the desk and received directions._

And it was in that same wandering, lost way that he walked through long, white corridor after long, white corridor. White floors met white walls that attached to white ceilings, and Peter had the irrelevant thought go through his head that a little colour _certainly _couldn't have hurt. But the thought didn't remain very long. It couldn't.

Especially not when he finally made it to Room 4815.

Peter paused outside of the wooden door, his eyes staring unseeingly at the bronze numbers in the centre of it. He had hurried and rushed to get here, had felt his heart pounding in fear when he'd read the letter … and now, he didn't know if he wanted to go inside. Beyond that single obstacle was the woman he loved, the woman he'd dated for almost two years, the woman that he could have seen himself marrying someday.

And yet, none of those dreams would ever happen.

Because Mary was dying.

_Breathe in. Breathe out. _Peter hesitantly put a hand on the door and slowly pushed it open. A part of him still wanted to do nothing other than flee, to go back to the States for the night because this entire thing had been _nothing _but a horrible nightmare. He could still do that, he knew. The room within wasn't lit very well; shadows covered everything and made the person in the bed hidden from his view in the doorway.

He would have to enter to see her.

Yet to see her was why he had come. He had Apparated across the ocean after being awake for nearly twenty-four hours to tell the woman he loved goodbye because she could not be healed.

So Peter took one step through the doorway, followed by another. Slowly but surely, the young wizard approached the bed upon which Mary McAdams lay dying, her injuries making her unrecognisable as the youthful, red-haired and freckled former Hufflepuff that she was.

And he said goodbye, paying no attention to the tears that dripped from his eyes.

* * *

The six members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived in the exact same spot that their compatriots had earlier in the night. Just on the edge of the forest and hidden from sight by anyone who may have been in the manor, James, Remus, Frank, Alice, Dorcas, and Lily withdrew their wands. The copy of _Quidditch Quarterly _was shoved into Frank's pocket. Together, everyone crouched down where they were, their forms hidden behind bushes and trees. A dozen eyes stared out at the foreboding stone structure, its height towering towards the sky.

As the others watched the house, Lily muttered a quick incantation under her breath, her wand waving in an intricate, circular motion. She hoped the others were making sure no one would be attacking them in the next few minutes, for she knew she wouldn't be in the best position to duel with anyone until the spell was finished. A lengthy spell, it took at least two minutes (though most uses required up to five) to complete, yet the old Tracking Charm would tell them if Sirius was still on the grounds.

Her actions drew the attention of Remus, who had been crouched the closest to her, and he nodded in understanding as he saw her eyes closed, mouth moving, and wand waving. At the others' confused glances, he explained.

"Tracking Charm," he whispered, receiving nods from the others as comprehension dawned. "It should tell us whether or not Sirius is still here – You have to be within a certain distance – one or two kilometres, I'm not sure – for it to work," Remus finished, answering Dorcas's question about why the charm wasn't cast at headquarters before she could even ask it.

The minutes ticked by, each Order member waiting (not very) patiently for the charm to finish. Silence fell around them, the darkness cloaking them in the forest's shadows, and a cool wind blew through the trees. A few shivered as the air hit them; regardless of the fact that it was fairly warm for mid-February, it _was _still winter.

"_Finite," _muttered Lily, and she glanced up, meeting the gazes of the others. "The spell says that he's here."

"All right," whispered James, nodding and breaking his gaze from the building in front of them to look back at the others. "It would probably be a better idea if we split up, each team taking a side of the manor." Lifting his free hand, the Auror motioned in both directions, his actions emphasising his words. "We can meet up again at the north end."

Lily had kept her stare intently on the manor itself after finishing the spell, her eyes taking it in stone by stone, scanning up the walls and peering through windows in the hopes of discovering if any shadowed forms of Death Eaters lurked within. No sounds could be heard coming from the manor, and everything _seemed _quiet and deserted, but as they all knew, it never paid to take chances.

"Frank, Dorcas, and I will take the east end," said Alice, tracing the path out with her hand as James had. "And we'll come around to the northwest corner of the manor."

"Which leaves the three of us to come up the south side and follow around the western wall," continued Remus. "Send a Patronus if you can, but if not … red for help, yellow if you find him." Everyone knew that last part, of course. It was the standard colours that the Order always used on their missions.

"That work for everyone?" James's question received several nods as a reply. "Okay then."

"Let's go."

Lily didn't notice four of the members of their group – the ones who had been in the initial raid on the manor – hesitate for the slightest moment as the bright witch unconsciously repeated Sirius's earlier words. As one, their group of six split off into two teams of three; Dorcas and the Longbottoms turned right to travel up the east wall, while the Potters and Remus started their cautious walk west.

Everything was silent, save for the normal sounds of nature that one would expect to hear in the late-night hours. Lily found herself in the middle of her group, Remus following behind her while James led the way. (Though all six of them had studied the maps and layouts, this was only Remus's and Lily's first time being on the grounds.) The trio inched along the southern wall, trying their best to ignore the signs of the battle that had raged just over an hour ago.

The manor's front bushes were singed or crushed – and sometimes both – from impacts with spells, rubble, or bodies. Debris from the entryway and front doors nearly covered the walkway, their broken stones scattered and creating dangerous ground for the rescue team to tread. A few puddles of blood could be seen as well, though none of the bodies that had fallen earlier had been left. The Death Eaters had apparently retrieved their own injured and dead, just as the Order had.

Slowly, trying not to make the slightest sound, James, Lily, and Remus crept further and further west. Their ears listened for anything – a whisper, a crunch of gravel, a creaking floorboard – and their eyes searched everywhere, trying to pierce the heavy darkness that hung over them, looking for the smallest sign of any Death Eaters. Brief observations from the forest hadn't revealed anything, of course, but Lily knew that such information didn't mean that there was no one present.

Death Eaters had a remarkable talent for blending into the shadows.

And all the while, their eyes were peeled for any sign of Sirius.

Finally, they made it to the western side of the manor. The entire trek across the front of the building had been completely uneventful. Not a single sign of Dark wizards had been seen or heard; the only evidence of their presence was the fact that a battle had taken place earlier that night. James came to a stop at the southwest corner, causing Lily to almost run into her husband.

"What is it?" muttered Remus, having also barely stopped himself from colliding with Lily. "Did you hear something?"

James shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't think there's anyone around, actually. No Death Eaters, at least." His brow furrowed in confusion, and Lily felt the same way.

_Something wasn't right._

"Let's just continue towards the others," she whispered, stepping out of line to do just that. "And I think we can chance lighting our wands now." The statement came out slightly hesitantly, but as she stared at Remus and James, she saw neither of them seemed to notice. "If anything, it should make our search go faster."

All three of them simultaneously cast the spell, and three small lights suddenly shone along the manor's grounds. Nature hadn't provided them with much light to use in their search earlier, but they hadn't really expected to discover Sirius on the south side. Had he been there, Lily knew, the rest of the Order would have seen him when they departed.

Together, James, Lily, and Remus turned the corner and started heading up the western wall, making their way north to meet the other team. No sparks had been fired by either Frank, Alice, or Dorcas, and while that had the fortunate meaning of them not running into any sort of trouble, it also meant that the west side of the manor was becoming their last chance to find Sirius on the grounds. For, surely, the other team was almost to the northwest corner.

Remus soon overtook Lily and went ahead to join James as each of them started searching at different paces. James was sending his wand's light in sweeping motions across the lawn, barely staying in one spot very long, while Remus's actions were a bit slower, more thorough. Lily hung back, her wand's motions in tiny, minute movements, almost like she was trying to scan each blade of grass in her search.

_Dirt … rock … flower … wood fragment … _With each step she took, Lily started to grow more worried. There were signs of a duel on this side of the house; the grass was flattened, spots of blood could be seen in the dirt, fragments of stone that had fallen when hit by stray spells crunched under her feet. But as she went further and further north, and the amount of space left to search diminished with each successive step, the worry grew.

There was no sign of Sirius.

A quick glance at James and Remus showed her that they had gone further west, leaving the outside wall of the manor and approaching the trees that wrapped along this side of the home. Faint, flickering lights in front of her also told Lily that the Longbottoms and Dorcas were finishing their search, coming around the corner … now.

"Did you find him?" asked Dorcas, both Longbottoms behind her. James and Remus were heading towards the group, having just seen their compatriots' arrival.

Lily shook her head, sighing. "No, and we haven't found anything that belongs to him, either; the Tracking Charm would have worked for either one. The only thing we know is that at least one duel took place on this side of the manor." She waved her arm in a sweeping motion to cover said space, the beam of light from her _Lumos _flying over the grass … and glinting off of something in a shadowed niche in the manor's wall.

The six Order members exchanged quick glances with each other before they all hurried towards that very spot. It had been so hidden in the shadows that neither Lily's, James's, nor Remus's search had revealed it; their wands had scanned nearly every area _but _that one. The wall had jutted outwards in _just _the right way to keep the small area – only half as wide as an average broom cupboard, really – completely cloaked in darkness.

Yet when they saw it, they knew.

Six beams of light shone on the objects. Quick breaths were inhaled and curses were muttered, (though Lily had no idea who had done which).

They had been too late.

A jewelled dagger was stabbed into a gap in the stone wall, the rubies decorating its hilt sparkling in the light from the wands pointing at it. The blade was clean, not a drop of blood marring its pure colour.

But the gold phoenix pendant that hung around the blade was not.

Dark red blood clung to the spread wings of the magical bird, the liquid occasionally dripping to the grass below. The pendant's golden chain wasn't clean, either, and the wands' light revealed the spots of blood that dotted along it.

"It's Sirius's," muttered Remus, his voice quiet, hushed, like the words were being forced from him and he would have given anything _not _to be saying them. Like he was hoping that such was _not _the case, that this was simply a nightmare that every one of them would wake up to realise hadn't occurred.

Lily understood the feeling.

There was no sign of the Dark Mark – not carved in the stone or engraved on the dagger, not drawn in the dirt or painted with blood (all of which had been seen by at least one of the six Order members present) – but the answer was obvious. They did not need to see the sign of the Dark Lord to know that Death Eaters had captured their friend.

"We should take these back to headquarters," said Frank, the words also sounding forced from his mouth. "Any Tracing or Tracking spells won't work from here; the Death Eaters were bound to have prevented it."

Hesitantly, Lily reached out to remove the pendant, not realising her hand was shaking slightly as she grasped the gold metal. She tried not to think about the blood now spotting her palm as she removed the phoenix, tried not to focus on the fact that it was – more than likely – Sirius's own.

As she stepped back, moving away so that another could remove the dagger, the light from her wand shone directly on the blade, right at the top of the hilt, and revealed the small engraving that they'd missed at first glance.

The engraving was of a crest that every single one of them – even the Muggle-born Lily and half-blood Remus – knew upon sight. Regardless of its size here, there was no mistaking the intricate detail that told just which family this dagger belonged to. The scripted words that could now be seen faintly engraved below the image were not needed by any of them to know.

A crest from one of the oldest families in the Wizarding World wasn't exactly unrecognisable.

"Shit."

Silence came from most of the Order members, though a curse or two were definitely muttered by some. Lily didn't spare a glance in her husband's direction as the single curse turned into several, more profane mutterings. Normally, she would have told him to watch his language, but there wasn't a single part of the red-haired witch that felt like doing so tonight.

Not when she felt the same way herself.

* * *

_Author's __Note__: And there you have the conclusion of another chapter. I apologise once again for the delay in getting this out, and I also apologise for the lack of Sirius himself in this chapter. (He was – in the initial plan – going to be near the end, but that scene got moved to the next chapter.) So, I promise that _Chapter VI, _which is now with Nikki, will have some Sirius in it. _

_A thank you goes to everyone who has read the story thus far, especially to those who've left their thoughts along the way – _ariex _and _Katie _for the last chapter. (I really appreciate hearing from everyone.) Also, I'd like to extend a 'thanks' to _Sammy88 _for adding the story to their favourites._

_--ForeverSirius77_


End file.
